This morning I dragged myself out of my pit at 6 in the morning. Who knew there were two six o’clocks in the day? A very quick breakfast and into the minibus at 6.45am. An insanely early start to the day (for me, anyway), but the day promised to just a little bit special. Diarmaid had managed to arrange us a tour, courtesy of the UN peace-keeping force, of the ‘neutral zone’ in Nicosia. This is basically the area of the city which separates the Greek and Turkish halves of the island. Nicosia, since the fall of the Berlin Wall, is the only divided city in Europe.
After a 90 minute drive we arrived at the UN base, and were met by some lovely blokes from the Mercian Regiment, although they were all wearing the blue berets of the UN, who they were on secondment to, along with Argentinean and Slovakian troops. The Regimental Sergeant Major greeted us all and shook us by the hand. I think he only broke three bones in mine.
Though the security barriers and away we went. We wound our way through the streets of the ‘neutral zone’, now patrolled by the UN, which had basically been preserved pretty much unchanged since the Turkish ‘intervention’ of 1974 (diplomacy prevents it being called an invasion and, given the political upheaval that preceded the Turks coming in, it seems a fair description). Each place we stopped had its own back-story, some grim, some hilarious. There first place we saw had been a school, but became a Turkish strong-hold during some of the fiercest fighting. It’s estimated that around 2000 Turkish troops died defending the place, with the front and sides of the building still riddled with holes from what looked like heavy-calibre machine-guns. It’s now a memorial garden to the fallen over on the Turkish side. For security reasons, we weren’t allowed to photograph in some areas, as the border still has observation points with armed troops in them and they get a bit twitchy if they see people taking pictures.
At the other end of the scale are some of the antics after the cease-fire. There was a wall built by the Turks to seal off a roadway crossing the border. This was to built to an agreed height, and once that height was reached, the UN painted the top line of bricks white. A week or so later, it was noticed that the wall was considerably higher, but the line of white-painted bricks was still at the top. It dawned on the UN that every night since they’d painted the line, the Turks had come along, removed the top row, put on another row of bricks, then put the original painted ones back. The UN finally put a stop to this by painting a line of bricks 10 rows from the top, meaning the Turks would have had to remove 800 bricks to add another row.
Elsewhere, the Turks had fortified a position using old wooden tea-chests with their bases pointing towards the Greek side. This was also illegal under the peace agreement, because if the chests contained earth or concrete, they would count as new fortifications. The Turks claimed they were simply there to stop the Greeks seeing what they considered to be a sensitive area. An agreement was again reached, this time that the Turks would turn the tea-chests around to show that they were empty. Unfortunately, they forgot to include a time-scale in which the Turks had to turn the chests round, so the Turks, once a month, would turn up with a full military band, flags and banners and a senior general, and with great ceremony, one tea-chest would be turned around to face the Greeks. I did ask the young cavalry Lieutenant who was showing us around how they all managed to keep their faces straight when dealing with this sort of thing, but he just half-smiled and shook his head.
As we moved away from what had been the areas of fiercest fighting, we hit an area of what had been shops. In one big department store, one of the counters was still stocked with type-writer ribbons and ink, amongst other things, complete with the original 1974 advertising. We then proceeded down what had been Nicosia’s equivalent of Bond Street before the intervention, including an underground car-park stocked with brand-new cars dating to 1974, all with 40 km on the clock. They’d been driven there from the port in preparation to being placed in the show-room, but never got that far. Above the car-park was a shopping mall, complete with an impromptu museum which the UN troops had put together over the years, including some ancient TV sets.
We then proceeded back to the van, and off for a quick lunch in the UN headquarters, which was what was once the Ledras Palace hotel, in the 1970s the only 5-star hotel on the island, and a regular haunt of Elizabeth Taylor. I doubt she’d recognise it now. Back to the bus, and then to what was for me, the high point of the day: Nicosia International Airport. The airport is in the area which is the main base of the UN in the area, and scene of some of the fiercest fighting of the conflict. It has remained deserted ever since. The terminal itself was only built in 1969, and was state-of-the-art, including such novelties as automatic doors. From the outside, it looks like something out of an episode of Thunderbirds. Inside was like the aftermath of the zombie apocalypse. All the original seats in the lounge area were still there, as were the shop fittings the kitchen area, the duty-free shop and some of the original advertising boards, but everything was covered with a thick layer of pigeon droppings. Simply one of the most astonishing things I have ever seen.
After this, we were taken to see a plane that was still sitting on the tarmac, although its engines had been removed, and it was time to go, and back to base just as the sun was going down.
I’ll put a load of pictures of today on my ‘open’ Facebook page, I’d really recommend anyone interested taking a look, I’ve had what can only be described as a once-in-a-lifetime experience today, and the pictures probably do the place far more justice than my prose.
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.762016040512536.1073741881.169284376452375&&uploaded=63
Tomorrow: Helicopters. Possibly.
After a 90 minute drive we arrived at the UN base, and were met by some lovely blokes from the Mercian Regiment, although they were all wearing the blue berets of the UN, who they were on secondment to, along with Argentinean and Slovakian troops. The Regimental Sergeant Major greeted us all and shook us by the hand. I think he only broke three bones in mine.
Though the security barriers and away we went. We wound our way through the streets of the ‘neutral zone’, now patrolled by the UN, which had basically been preserved pretty much unchanged since the Turkish ‘intervention’ of 1974 (diplomacy prevents it being called an invasion and, given the political upheaval that preceded the Turks coming in, it seems a fair description). Each place we stopped had its own back-story, some grim, some hilarious. There first place we saw had been a school, but became a Turkish strong-hold during some of the fiercest fighting. It’s estimated that around 2000 Turkish troops died defending the place, with the front and sides of the building still riddled with holes from what looked like heavy-calibre machine-guns. It’s now a memorial garden to the fallen over on the Turkish side. For security reasons, we weren’t allowed to photograph in some areas, as the border still has observation points with armed troops in them and they get a bit twitchy if they see people taking pictures.
At the other end of the scale are some of the antics after the cease-fire. There was a wall built by the Turks to seal off a roadway crossing the border. This was to built to an agreed height, and once that height was reached, the UN painted the top line of bricks white. A week or so later, it was noticed that the wall was considerably higher, but the line of white-painted bricks was still at the top. It dawned on the UN that every night since they’d painted the line, the Turks had come along, removed the top row, put on another row of bricks, then put the original painted ones back. The UN finally put a stop to this by painting a line of bricks 10 rows from the top, meaning the Turks would have had to remove 800 bricks to add another row.
Elsewhere, the Turks had fortified a position using old wooden tea-chests with their bases pointing towards the Greek side. This was also illegal under the peace agreement, because if the chests contained earth or concrete, they would count as new fortifications. The Turks claimed they were simply there to stop the Greeks seeing what they considered to be a sensitive area. An agreement was again reached, this time that the Turks would turn the tea-chests around to show that they were empty. Unfortunately, they forgot to include a time-scale in which the Turks had to turn the chests round, so the Turks, once a month, would turn up with a full military band, flags and banners and a senior general, and with great ceremony, one tea-chest would be turned around to face the Greeks. I did ask the young cavalry Lieutenant who was showing us around how they all managed to keep their faces straight when dealing with this sort of thing, but he just half-smiled and shook his head.
As we moved away from what had been the areas of fiercest fighting, we hit an area of what had been shops. In one big department store, one of the counters was still stocked with type-writer ribbons and ink, amongst other things, complete with the original 1974 advertising. We then proceeded down what had been Nicosia’s equivalent of Bond Street before the intervention, including an underground car-park stocked with brand-new cars dating to 1974, all with 40 km on the clock. They’d been driven there from the port in preparation to being placed in the show-room, but never got that far. Above the car-park was a shopping mall, complete with an impromptu museum which the UN troops had put together over the years, including some ancient TV sets.
We then proceeded back to the van, and off for a quick lunch in the UN headquarters, which was what was once the Ledras Palace hotel, in the 1970s the only 5-star hotel on the island, and a regular haunt of Elizabeth Taylor. I doubt she’d recognise it now. Back to the bus, and then to what was for me, the high point of the day: Nicosia International Airport. The airport is in the area which is the main base of the UN in the area, and scene of some of the fiercest fighting of the conflict. It has remained deserted ever since. The terminal itself was only built in 1969, and was state-of-the-art, including such novelties as automatic doors. From the outside, it looks like something out of an episode of Thunderbirds. Inside was like the aftermath of the zombie apocalypse. All the original seats in the lounge area were still there, as were the shop fittings the kitchen area, the duty-free shop and some of the original advertising boards, but everything was covered with a thick layer of pigeon droppings. Simply one of the most astonishing things I have ever seen.
After this, we were taken to see a plane that was still sitting on the tarmac, although its engines had been removed, and it was time to go, and back to base just as the sun was going down.
I’ll put a load of pictures of today on my ‘open’ Facebook page, I’d really recommend anyone interested taking a look, I’ve had what can only be described as a once-in-a-lifetime experience today, and the pictures probably do the place far more justice than my prose.
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.762016040512536.1073741881.169284376452375&&uploaded=63
Tomorrow: Helicopters. Possibly.